Zelda's POV
Link is fast asleep. He fell asleep happy, going on and on about how much I mean to him and how much he cares about us until his voice turned into mumbles and whispers, and eventually he drifted off into a deep slumber.
Malice didn't have the fortune of falling asleep to anything like that. Who knows what went through her head right before she passed out in that dark alleyway.
I've been up all night worrying about her. I can't ignore it any longer. I don't want her to wake up alone, in a strange room with no memory of how she got there. Somebody needs to be there with her and explain what happened and why she is here.
Stepping out of bed, the darkness cloaks the house like a sinister shroud. I move quietly, careful not to wake Link on my way to the door. Barefoot, I enter the hallway.
In the guest bedroom, the blinds shut out the creeping morning light, creating a chilling ambiance. There she lies, unmoving and still, as though trapped in an ominous dream. I approach her cautiously, hoping to find signs of life.
I contemplate taking her to the ER despite Pik's objections. I understand that he doesn't want Malice to get in trouble for the use of drugs or homelessness, but her well-being should be our priority. The thought of an ambulance briefly crosses my mind but before I call them, I try to wake her up first.
I gently shake her shoulder. In an instant, Malice's eyes snap open and she reacts with terrifying swiftness, drawing a gleaming object from her boot!
Fear seizes me as she lunges forward, a sharp blade coming my way! I try to back away in time, the edge of her knife slicing my cheek! In my sudden retreat, I fall backward to the ground.
I shuffle away from her at the same time as I try to get back up, but it's too late, she's on top of me, the atmosphere crackling with tension as I struggle to escape.
"Malice stop!" I beg, the realization dawning that the danger is all too real. There's no telling what's driving her actions, and the weight of uncertainty adds to the horror of the moment. She stares at me in pure terror and I stare back just as terrified, knowing that my voice doesn't reach her.
Her hand gains momentum, the knife aiming for my neck again. With no room to back away this time, I throw myself to the side, just barely avoiding the razor-sharp blade.
I swiftly try to rise to my feet. The blade slashes through the air and sinks deep into my leg, piercing through flesh and bone. Searing agony shoots through my leg and an involuntary scream sounds as I crumple back to the floor.
Malice pulls out her knife to launch another attack while I push myself away from her. I can feel warm blood gushing from the wound, soaking my clothes and the carpet beneath me. The pain is overwhelming, but I can't allow it to paralyze me. I know I will die if I don't fight right now!
With a thud, the knife cuts me over and over as I try to crawl away from her. In the dimly lit room, adrenaline courses through my body, making every second feel critical.
"Stop!" I screech between sobs. "Malice! Stop!" I plead for my life. I don't have the strength to convince her that I'm only trying to help her. I need to get away from her!
Amidst the chaos, I find myself in a life-or-death struggle, my instincts kicking in as fear guides my actions. Desperately, I use my hands and feet to fend off the imminent danger.
"You're at my house! You're safe!" I scream, using every last ounce of strength to protect myself.
I don't want to get stabbed!
Despite the pain pulsating through my body, I scramble to get out of here alive.
"Malice please!" I call out in a final attempt to stop her from stabbing me!
But she is determined to take my life, wielding her knife with the intent to cause fatal injuries.
The door bursts open with a resounding bang. It's Link, swift and decisive in his actions. In a blur of motion, he disarms Malice and restrains her from behind, the knife skidding across the room.
"Link!" I cry out in relief and fear, weeping and shaking on the floor!
Malice switches to panic mode and struggles fiercely, but she is no match for Link. Especially not without her pocket knife.
Even though she fights relentlessly, her attempts to break free are in vain. Link keeps a firm hold on her, careful to avoid her attempts to harm him.
"Calm down, Malice!" Link says, his voice strained as he tries to reason with her. He remains steadfast, doing his best to stay out of her striking range while preventing any harm to her. "Zelda, what happened?" he asks me, searching the scene for answers.
Trembling and sick to my stomach, I start crawling toward the discarded weapon. "She just snapped!" My trembling hand reaches the knife and carefully folds it, tucking the blade away. "I tried to wake her up and she attacked me!"
I'm huddled in the corner of the room feeling vulnerable and helpless. My ankle is gushing blood and there are more cuts to discover around my arms. My body refuses to cooperate as I attempt to move closer to Link and Malice. Tears stream down my cheeks, mixing with the smudged blood on my face.
So much blood... My hands are shaking...
Whatever drug Malice took has altered her behavior and turned her into a danger to herself and others. I feel a pang of sympathy for her struggles, but the fear of what she's capable of overwhelms any other emotions.
Link's grip on Malice remains firm, but I can see the strain on his face as he tries to handle the situation as gently as possible.
"Malice, listen to me," Link says to her, "We don't want to hurt you, but you need to calm down."
She continues to struggle, but his voice seems to penetrate the fog of panic and desperation that surrounds her. Gradually, her movements become less erratic, and her resistance weakens.
"What did you do to me?" Malice finally speaks, her voice a weak and frantic cry.
"We didn't do anything to you," Link responds. "We found you unconscious on the street, and we brought you here to help you."
"Help?" Malice spits as if she had never heard that word before.
"We're not your enemies," I plead, trying to defuse the tension.
Malice's mind is a jumble of emotions, her anger fueled by her fear of the unknown. She doesn't know who to trust, and neither do we. When she finally stops fighting, Link eases his hold on her, still vigilant but allowing her some space to breathe.
"He's paying you, isn't he?" Malice whales in horror. Neither Link nor I know what she's talking about.
"Nobody is paying us," I say.
"We genuinely found you unconscious and wanted to help," Link tells her. I'm glad he isn't mentioning Pik. Who knows how she would react to that.
"Mía," I say her name, hoping to gain her trust. But her eyes only narrow, her anger deepening. She probably can't afford to trust anyone, not after the hardships she faced on the streets.
"You're gonna hand me over," she continues, her eyes darting around the room, checking every corner for danger.
"We won't do that," I say. "We want to understand what happened to you, but we won't force you to stay. You're free to leave if that's really what you want."
Malice's anger momentarily wavers, surprised by my words. Still, she doesn't let her guard down. She glances around, searching for an escape route, but the fatigue in her body is evident.
"You clearly need help," I say, still sitting against the furthest wall from her, trying to slow the bleeding with my hands.
Link and I exchange another look, recognizing the stubborn resilience in Malice. Forcing her to accept our help will only drive her further away.
Malice's emotions continue to flare, but the drugs coursing through her veins render her mind hazy and disoriented. She sways on her feet, struggling to maintain her balance. Consciousness slips in and out like a flickering flame, until seconds later, her legs give out beneath her. She collapses to the floor and Link is quick to react, catching her in his arms.
He lifts her back up onto the bed where she falls into an uneasy slumber, the drugs' effects dragging her into a restless, dreamless state.
His eyes wide and breaths fleeting, Link remains standing by the bedside as he watches her, making sure she is really asleep. He almost looks frozen, needing a moment to process everything.
As soon as he snaps out of it, he rushes over to help me. Kneeling in front of me, he cautiously removes my hand from my ankle to examine the damage done.
"She tried to stab me!" I whine, hoping she was unsuccessful.
"I'll get the first-aid kit," Link says, his eyes an intense gaze as he takes charge.
"No, don't leave me here with her!"
Instead of wasting time with useless debates, he lifts me off the ground and carries me out of the room, a trail of blood marking the floor behind us. I'm still clutching my ankle when he lays me down on my bed. He disappears into the bathroom and returns with the first-aid kit.
"Do you know what to do?" I ask as he opens it up. I don't care that the blood is staining my white sheets, I just want this nightmare to end! I can't believe Malice stabbed me!
"Just try to relax."
Gently, Link cradles my injured ankle in his hands, his touch careful and tender. I try not to look at my ankle and focus on Link instead. He looks up into my eyes, a mixture of concern and reassurance in his gaze.
My trust in him is evident as I lean back to let him work. He takes a clean cloth and cleans the wound with a delicate touch. He's experienced in caring for injuries, mainly his own. I'm sure he picked up some tips and tricks from Mipha over the years. Either way, I'm glad he's here with me.
"You're doing great," he says as I clench my teeth in pain.
"We should lock the door," I hiss through my teeth. "And lock hers too! Better yet, call the police!"
"Your doors don't have locks."
"Yes they do!"
"I thought they were made in Japan?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask confused.
"Sorry, I'm trying to distract you from the pain," he admits, still focused on the stab wound. "Last time I took care of your injury I made you focus on correcting me so your pain tolerance would be higher. It's your secret superpower, remember?"
"I do remember that," I say, smiling on the inside and crying on the outside. "You took care of my second-degree burn that day."
"It was Christmas, right? We were baking cookies?"
"We were baking a cake, and it was Valentine's Day," I correct him even though I know he is only pretending to get it wrong to distract me.
"You're totally right! How could I forget? That cake was so delicious!" He lies.
I aim my eyes at the ceiling fan, feeling dizzy and nauseous and cold. My hands are still gripping the pocket knife as if my life depended on it.
"The cake got burned," I correct him again and add, "I love you, Link."
"I love you, too, Zelda."
"I love you so much!" More tears mix with the blood on the sheets. "I love you so much. Don't let me die, okay?"
He gives my ankle a peck, "All taken care of!"
"What? Already?" I take a hesitant glance at my foot, surprised to find it carefully bandaged and the blood cleaned up by Link, almost as if magic was involved.
"Thank you," I mutter in awe.
He takes a seat next to me on the bed and gently cups my cheek in his hand. His eyes scan my face, settling on the cut that stretches across my cheekbone. The skin around it is pulsating and I'm glad I can't see the wound because I would probably freak out.
"Is it bad?" I ask.
"Just a tiny scratch," he lies to comfort me. "I'll take care of it, just tilt your head back a little."
He reaches for another clean cloth, gently dabbing at the wound to clean away the blood. I wince at every touch, feeling how tender and raw the cut is.
"I'm sorry," Link says softly, his touch careful. "I know it hurts, but I need to make sure it's clean."
I try to stay still for him, suppressing the urge to twitch when he applies an ointment to the wound.
"I have cuts on my hands and arms too..."
"I'll take care of you, honey."
"Honey," I sniffle with the tiniest smile. "Father is going to ask questions when he sees the cuts..."
Link doesn't answer. His eyes are focused on my cheek, his concentration unbroken. As he places a clean bandage over my cheek, I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. The bleeding may not have stopped completely, but Link's care has eased my pain, both physical and emotional.
"Good as new," he says and places a kiss on the other cheek.
"You're so good to me," I whisper, tears blurring my vision.
"We'll get through this," Link says, his voice filled with determination.
I nod, feeling comforted by his words and his presence. The pain may be present, but I know I'm not alone in this. Link is here, by my side.
Just when I thought everything was going to be okay, an uneasy feeling pulls my eyes to the door. The silhouette of a person has appeared. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes lock onto the gun that is pointed at us.